


Nigel and the Old Doll

by GulliverJ



Category: Charlie Countryman (2013), Damon Runyan - Fandom, Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, Gen, No Sex, Sugar Dick Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 16:31:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6995905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GulliverJ/pseuds/GulliverJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nigel hops over a wall to avoid getting killed in New York.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nigel and the Old Doll

**Author's Note:**

> Shamelessly indebted to "The Old Doll's House" by Damon Runyon.
> 
> I own nothing.

Nigel was trying to go straight, but Darko’s New York associates were following him. This gang called themselves by old cowboy movie names: Deadwood Dick, the Pocatello Kid, and Cactus Pete. Deadwood said they got the idea from watching Tarantino films.

Well, it seems they have Nigel pretty well cased, and they know that of an evening along toward ten o'clock he nearly always strolls through West Fifty-fourth street on his way to a certain spot on Park Avenue that has a very high-toned clientele, and the reason Nigel goes there is because he has a piece of the joint, and furthermore he loves to show off his shape in a tuxedo.

So the Deadwood gang drive along this route, and as they roll past Nigel, Deadwood and Pocatello let fly at Nigel with a couple of sawed-offs, while Cactus Pete holds the burlap bag they think to bag him with.

But Nigel is by no means a sucker, and when the first blast of slugs from the sawed-offs breezes past him without hitting him, what does he do but hop over a brick wall alongside him and drop into a yard on the other side. So Deadwood, and Pocatello and Cactus get out of their automobile and run up close to the wall themselves because they commence figuring that if Nigel starts popping at them from behind this wall, they will be taking plenty the worst of it, for of course they cannot figure Nigel to be strolling about without being rodded up somewhat.

But Nigel is by no means rodded up, because a rod is apt to create a bump in his shape when he has his tuxedo on, so the story really begins with Nigel behind the brick wall, practically defenseless. 

Now, the brick wall Nigel hops over is a wall around a pretty fair-sized yard, with a house, and this house belongs to an old doll by the name of Miss Abigail Hobbs, who has a lot of money left to her by her father, Garret Jacob Hobbs who had a thing about her.

It seems that Garrett Jacob Hobbs is a most eccentric old dude, and is very strict with his daughter, and will never let her marry, or even as much as look as if she wishes to marry, because he does not wish her to leave him. This makes Abigail herself eccentric.

In fact, Miss Abigail Hobbs becomes so eccentric that she lives in the big house all alone, except for a couple of old servants, and it is very seldom that anybody sees her around and about, and many strange stories are told of her.

Well, no sooner is he in the yard than Nigel begins looking for a way to get out, and one way he does not wish to get out is over the wall again, because he figures Deadwood and his gang are bound to be waiting for him in Fifty-fourth Street. So Nigel looks around to see if there is some way out of the yard in another direction, but it seems there is no such way, except Nigel happens to try a door on one side of the house, and the door opens at once and Nigel hastens in to find himself in the living-room of the house. It is a very large living room with a big old grandfather's clock. 

But the only person in this room seems to be a little old doll all dressed in soft white, who is sitting in a low rocking-chair by an open fireplace in which a bright fire is going, doing some reading.

The old doll looks up and says “Good evening.”

So the next thing Nigel knows, he is sitting there in a chair in front of the fireplace talking with the old doll as pleasant as you please, and of course the old doll is nobody but Miss Abigail Hobbs. Furthermore, she does not seem at all alarmed, or even much surprised, at seeing Nigel in her house, but then Nigel is never apt to scare old dolls, or young dolls either, especially when he is all slicked up.

“You are young,” the old doll says to Nigel, looking him in the kisser. “It is many years since a young man comes through yonder door.” Ah, yes: she says, “so many years.”

And with this she lets out a big sigh, and looks so very sad that Nigel’s heart is touched. “Forty-five years now,” the old doll says in a low voice, as if she is talking to herself. “So young, so handsome, and so good.”

And although Nigel is in no mood to listen to reminiscences at this time, the next thing he knows he is hearing a very pathetic love story, because it seems that Miss Abigail Hobbs is once in love with a young guy who is nothing but a clerk in her papa's office. And her papa was not going to let them date much less marry.

But one night he comes home early and catches Miss Abigail Hobbs and her ever-loving guy kissing.

Well, this scene is so repulsive to Garret Jacob Hobbs that he is practically speechless for a minute, and then he orders the young guy out of his life in every respect, and tells him never to darken his door again, especially the side-door. But it seems that by this time a great storm is raging outside, and Miss Abigail Hobbs begs and pleads with her papa to let the young guy at least remain until the storm subsides, but between being all worked up at the kissing scene he witnesses, he makes the young guy leave.

The next morning the poor young guy is found at the side-door frozen as stiff as a board, because it seems that the storm that is raging is the blizzard of 1971, which is a very famous event in the history of New York, although up to this time Nigel never hears of it before, and does not believe it until he looks the matter up afterwards. It seems from what Miss Abigail Hobbs says that as near as anyone can make out, the young guy must return to the door seeking shelter after wandering about in the storm a while, but of course by this time her papa has the door all bolted up, and nobody hears the young guy.

“And,” Miss Abigail Hobbs says to Nigel, after giving him all these details, “I never speak to my papa again as long as he lives, and no other man ever comes in or out of yonder door, or any other door of this house, until your appearance to-night, although,” she says, “this side-door is never locked in case such a young man comes seeking shelter.”

Then she looks at Nigel in such a way that he wonders if Miss Abigail Hobbs hears the sawed-offs going when Deadwood Dick and the Pocatello Kid are tossing slugs at him, but he is too polite to ask.

After telling the story Miss Abigail Hobbs starts to weep, and if there is one thing Nigel cannot stand it is a doll weeping, even if she is nothing but an old doll. So he starts in to cheer Miss Abigail Hobbs up, and he pats her on the arm, and says to her like this:

“Why,” Nigel says, “I am greatly surprised to hear your statement about the doors around here being so little used. Why, Sweetheart,” Nigel says, “if I know there is a doll as good-looking as you in the neighborhood, and a door unlocked, I will be busting in myself every night. Come, come, come,” Nigel says, “let us talk things over and maybe have a few laughs, because I may have to stick around here a while. Listen, Sweetheart,” he says, “do you happen to have a drink in the joint?”

Well, Nigel sits there with Miss Abigail Hobbs sipping whiskey and eating sandwiches, and all the time he is telling her stories of one kind and another, some of which he cleans up a little when he figures they may be a little too racy for her, and by and by he has her laughing quite heartily indeed. He tells her about the Deadwood Dick gang and since Nigel did not watch old cowboy films in Romania, he makes up a name for himself that is the first thing he thinks of: Sugar Dick.

Finally he figures there is no chance of Deadwood and his sawed-offs being outside waiting for him, so he says he guesses he will be going, and Miss Abigail Hobbs personally sees him to the door, and this time it is the front door. And he tells her he will try to come back again, especially if Deadwood is still around.

And it so happens that Nigel does run into the Deadwood gang, but he sees them first. And he was not wearing a tux and therefore had his own sawed-off.

But the cops catch Nigel and then it looks as if it is a sure thing that Nigel will be very severely punished, and maybe sent to the electric chair, although he hires one of the best lawyers in this town to defend him. But even his lawyer admits that Nigel is in a tough spot.

Well, by the time Nigel’s trial comes up, you can get 3 to 1 anywhere that he will be convicted, and the price goes up to 5 when the prosecution gets through with its case, and proves by the stool pigeons that at exactly twelve o'clock on the night of January 5th, Nigel steps into the Birdcage Club and and plugs Deadwood Dick, the Pocatello Kid and Cactus Pete.

Well, it is late in the afternoon when Nigel’s lawyer gets up and looks all around the courtroom, and without making any opening statement to the jury for the defense, as these mouthpieces usually do, he says like this:

“Call Miss Abigail Hobbs,” he says.

At first nobody quite realizes just who he is calling for, although the name sounds familiar to one and all present who read the newspapers, when in comes a little old doll in a black silk dress that almost reaches the floor, and a black bonnet that makes a sort of a frame for her white hair and face.

Anyway, she comes into the courtroom surrounded by so many old guys you will think it must be recess at the Old Men's Home, except they are all dressed up in claw-hammer coat tails, and high collars, and afterwards it turns out that they are the biggest lawyers in this town, and they all represent Miss Abigail Hobbs one way or another, and they are present to see that her interests are protected, especially from each other.

Nobody ever sees so much bowing and scraping before in a courtroom. In fact, even the judge bows. When she takes the witness-stand, her lawyers grab chairs and move up as close to her as possible, and in the street outside there is practically a riot as word goes around that Miss Abigail Hobbs is in the court, and citizens come running from every which way, hoping to get a peek at the richest old doll in the world.

Well, when all hands finally get settled down a little, Nigel’s lawyer speaks to Miss Abigail Hobbs as follows:

“Miss Hobbs,” he says, “I am going to ask you just two or three questions. Kindly look at this defendant,” the lawyer says, pointing at Nigel, and giving Nigel the sign to stand up. “Do you recognize him?”

Well, the little old doll takes a gander at Nigel, and nods her head yes, and Nigel gives her a large smile, and the lawyer says:

“Is he a caller in your home on the night of January fifth?” 

“He is,” Miss Abigail Hobbs says.

“Is there a clock in the living-room in which you receive this defendant?” the Lawyer asks.

“There is,” Miss Abigail Hobbs says. “A large clock,” she says. “A grandfather's clock.”

“Do you happen to notice,” Nigel’s lawyer says, “and do you now recall the hour indicated by this clock when the defendant leaves your home?”

“Yes,” Miss Abigail Hobbs says, “I do happen to notice. It is just twelve o'clock by my clock,” she says. “Exactly twelve o'clock,” she says. Well, this statement creates a large sensation in the courtroom, because if it is twelve o'clock when Nigel leaves Miss Abigail Hobbs’ house in West Fifty-fourth Street, anybody can see that there is no way he can be in the Birdcage Club over five blocks away at the same minute unless he is a magician, and the judge begins peeking over his specs at the coppers in the courtroom very severe, and the cops begin scowling at the stool pigeons, and I am willing to lay plenty of 6 to 5 that the stools will wish they are never born before they hear the last of this matter from the gendarmes. 

So there is Nigel as free as anybody, and as he starts to leave the courtroom he stops by Miss Abigail Hobbs, who is still sitting in the witness-chair surrounded by her mouthpieces, and he shakes her hand and thanks her, and while I do not hear it myself, somebody tells me afterwards that Miss Abigail Hobbs says to Nigel in a low voice, like this:

“I will be expecting you again some night, Sugar Dick,” she says.

“Some night, Gorgeous,” Nigel says, “at twelve o'clock.”

And then he goes on about his business, and Miss Abigail Hobbs goes on about hers; and everybody says it is certainly a wonderful thing that a doll as rich as Miss Abigail Hobbs comes forward in the interests of justice to save a guy like Nigel from a wrong rap. 

But of course it is just as well for Nigel that Miss Abigail Hobbs does not explain to the court that when she recovers from the shock of the finding of her ever-loving young guy frozen to death, she stops all the clocks in her house at the hour she sees him last, so for forty-five years it is always twelve o'clock in her house.


End file.
